


That One Time at Madame Angel's

by moonoverwings



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Canon Compliant, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Hangover, I Ship It, M/M, One Shot, What Did We Do Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonoverwings/pseuds/moonoverwings
Summary: A knackered Athos deals with the post night time shenanigans of two of his Musketeers...





	That One Time at Madame Angel's

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:  
> Written as part of a challenge with Winters_Lullaby.
> 
> Prompt based on a conversation (in the BBC TV Series The Musketeers) Porthos and Aramis have in the episode 'The Challenge' about a time they were at a certain Madame Angel's party.
> 
> Fic written to a time limit.

It wasn't unusual to find Athos nursing a hangover. Indeed, it was almost expected from a Musketeer who's seen more than his fair share of bull-shitery and fights that his line of work periodically annoyed him with. But as the other Musketeers knew, they would sooner draw blood from stone than get Athos to instantly snap out of one of his hangovers.

Or be in a good mood.

But what _was_ unusual, however, was the morning scene that greeted this particular Musketeer's ill prepared senses and that of his charge, D'artagnan. Athos had awoken, pulled his half drunken ass out of bed, fell into more items of furniture that he cared to count and managed to successfully assaulted the door on his way out.

"What the hell happened to you?" D'artagnan half smirked, already sitting at the mess table with a mug of hot coffee in hand, as Athos's hunched over figure made it's way over with that unmistakable wobble.

"You do well, my boy," the elder Musketeers half slurred, grabbing onto the table's edge for purchase before pointing a limp finger at the youngster, "not to meddle in the night time's dealings of Musketeers."

"You drank alone in your room last night, didn't you?"

Athos sat down and paused, his face impassive with eyes half lidded before agreeing with himself it was too early for bravado and tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement-

**"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"**

Athos paused, looking up at Treville's angry shout from inside his office above him as D'artagnan turned around in his seat, staring over his shoulder. There was a few muffled thumps and curses until a figure was hurled out of Treville's door and hit the wooden railing with a oomph! Athos blinked back the post alcoholic fog, squinting up. Who the hell had pissed off their captain now? And from the sounds of it, it was rather a special type of pissing off. As the figure grappled with the railing, pulling itself up, Athos could have rolled his eyes if it didn't make his world spin first.

It was Aramis. Fully naked, save for a strategically placed hat.

Now _that_ made Athos raise an eyebrow. Not that he was truly surprised it was Aramis who happened to be the one being reprimanded. But in his birthday suit and wearing a look of deep shame was a new one. It wasn't until another figure appeared behind him at the railings that up went the other eyebrow faster than Athos would have liked.

Porthos, also equally nude, sulked out of the door, face incredibly red with a matching hat placed over the key region.

Athos forcefully blinked a few more times to make sure he was actually clocking what he was clocking. He chanced a look at the other musketeer next to him and saw the boy expressing intense confusion. Alright, that was good. He wasn't the only one seeing things.

The two shouldn't have stared but it was like a spectacular carriage crash. Neither Athos nor D'artagnan could look away as Aramis and Porthos carefully and slowly made their way down the wooden stairs.

Aramis looked particularly annoyed and Porthos was a mixture between fury and shame.

"This should be interesting," Athos said quietly into his drink, praying the caffeine would rid him of his hangover to properly asses just what the other two had done. He blinked as a sting made it's way across his temple. Wasn't a particularly strong one by his famous standards but still, the morning after effects of bottle never got softer. Perhaps this morning would be easier, considering he now had something very distracting as D'artagnan started laughing loudly.

"Must ya' laugh?" Porthos grunted as they approached the table.

Athos decided to answer for D'artagnan wasn't currently able too.

"Forgive us gentlemen but we are not aware of the context of which you both find yourselves in need of clothes or a good shouting-"

"We have been accused," Aramis began, sticking his nose in the air as the youngest member of the group continued to chuckled, "of something that we are completely innocent of."

"Which is?" Athos grunted, taking a swig of drink.

"Fornicating," Aramis said, trying to keep as much shame from his face as he could muster, plastering a scowl across his features to hide it.

"And do tell what is so surprising about that?" Athos smirked as D'artagnan filled up his own glass. 

Aramis squirmed, knowing that look of Athos refusing to give him a free pass. Fine. He wanted the truth? He was going to have it.

Aramis waited until Arthos began to take another drink.

"Fornicating with each other."

Athos almost choked on his coffee but saved himself at the last minute. The same could not be said for the youngest Musketeers, who instantly spat his drink out in one impressive jet.

Athos took a moment and looked down at his tanned tunic to see it had been completely pebble dashed.

"Oh, that's going to be hard to get out."

Athos slowly raised his eyes at Aramis's out of place joke and then over at D'artagnan who was staring at the other two in complete and utter shock.

There was a thick silence.

"Shut your mouth D'artagnan," Athos finally sighed, fruitlessly brushing one hand down his stained tunic, "or birds will start to nest in it."

"Sorry," the twenty three year old said, shock now turning the edges of this mouth up in amusement.

"We couldn't er," Porthos started, before shrugging with a pained wince, nodding to his quarters behind them, "Ya' know...get dressed...?"

Athos chewed the side of his cheek, part of him enjoying the flustered two before him as curious Musketeers from other teams chuckled from across the courtyard, a crowd gathering.

"Please, Athos," Aramis said, hint of annoyance under his voice of desperation, "Don't make us beg."

"Oh, now there's an idea," D'artagnan snorted which earned him a deep growl of Porthos anger.

"....Of course," Athos said, bringing their suffering to an end and indicated for his team mates to help themselves to something resembling clothes.

The two chastised Musketeers nodded their thanks and quickly as they could dashed off into the seclusion of their own sleeping quarters.

There was silence and the elder man gave his younger charge a look.

"And I thought _I_ had one hell of a night," Athos muttered into his drink.

 It was twenty minutes later that the two embarrassed Musketeers appeared, clothes mercifully covering anything offensive.

Athos secretly grinned to himself but didn't let it show. Time to make these two wayward men sing.

"Explain yourselves," Athos said automatically with a bored drawl, still sitting at the table.

"It's not what it looks like," Aramis started.

"With you Aramis, it always is," Athos cut in, "Continue."

Aramis pursed his lips at the interruption and Athos nearly let that grin out on his face. This was nothing new. Porthos, but really Aramis, would always make a big song and dance about going to some Madame's or who ever's social party every few months. Usually these parties would be social gatherings on the surface, but with these two, they'd quickly spiral down to drinking and shagging their time away. Or rather, Aramis leading Porthos into a den of vice.

Athos was, truth be told, sick and tired of the man's constant stream of lovers and conquest escapades. For his actions  _always_ came back to the garrison, in one way or another, and Athos was fed up at how many forlorn maidens, and a few noble gentlemen, would call for the handsome Musketeer. It was exhausting, chasing them away with shouts or being forced to offer up yet another handkerchief to stem the rivers of tears to the news that the man in question was not at the garrison. When in truth Aramis just happened to be conveniently sleeping peacefully away nearby, the selfish bastard.

And Athos was fast nearing the end of his famously non existent patience.

He could still hear Aramis trying to get him to come with them, to the next party he had caught wind of, to pacify the grumpy solider. Madame Angels if memory served.

"It'll be fun, you deserve to let off a bit of steam."

"Fornicating with random socialites is not my favourite pass time, Aramis. It is yours."

Aramis had sighed at that and after trying once more and being heavily rebuffed, the duo had gone alone. Even if D'artagnan had shown interest and tried to hide how crest fallen he was when it was an 'over thirty's" party. 

"So what happened?" Athos stated, bracing himself for the onslaught of Aramis's verbal diarrhoea.

"We got there and instantly accepted a drink from someone we shouldn't have," a fully clothed Aramis said matter of factually, fingers playing with the stalk of his wine glass. "I mean we weren't to know, were we? Handing out that incredibly strong, not to mention dubious, alcohol to the guests, well," he scoffed, taking a drink, "it's normal."

"Oh?" Athos replied, pouring some into his own. As much as his head pounded, he needed another drink to get through this. And looked like he wasn't the only one as Porthos downed his instantly with a wince of sharp taste.

"Think it was Absinthe,"  Porthos grunted, "Started seein' things."

"We met this charming woman," Aramis said quickly, trying to explain and get this explanation over with, "Hostess of the party. Madame Angel-"

"I've heard of her," Athos said, "Seem to remember you wanted me to come along-"

"Well, I'm glad you didn't for, er...," Aramis started, looking nervously at Porthos and away. "Her parties are legendary. Women, _beautiful_ women, and all the wine you could possibly want on this mortal coil!"

"Uh huh," Athos said with boredom at the man's weakness. Aramis was stalling.

"We went, things were going well. She asked us both into the boudoir-"

"Both of you?" Athos said, before he raised a knowing eyebrow, "A ménage à trois?"

"Yeah," Porthos grunted, cheeks beat scarlet.

"What's that?" D'artagnan curious asked but was ignored.

"We declined," Aramis stated, "I told her that while we are flattered at her proposal, we didn't fancy a 'Devils Triangle'. Although," Aramis said, quickly looking to his friend. "For as much as Porthos is a strong and strapping lad, and anyone would be a fool not to jump at the chance to bed him-"

"She were a thief, Athos," Porthos said bluntly, cutting to the point and derailing Aramis letting out too much information of what really happened. Aramis always pranced round the bloody houses. He eyed Athos with a hard stare, "She drugged us. Played us. Took all our money n' all our weapons-"

"and all your clothes...," D'artagnan said under his breath but loud enough for the key people to hear.

"She cleaned us out!" Aramis nearly yelled with indignation, "Us! The King's Musketeers! Well, we weren't to know, where we? The drink was flowing, I had a gorgeous creature on both my arms..."

Athos looked unconvinced.

"I went into the bedroom with my companions," Aramis continued warbling, "while Porthos and Madame Angel went to another....then we were," Aramis said slowly, as if suddenly and carefully choosing his words.

"You were?" D'artagnan said, fishing.

"Blind folded," Aramis said after blowing air through his nose, "For the ladies said they wanted to play a game."

There was silence.

"And?" Athos said, dragging the word out.

"Well, they were fine women, "the dark haired man sighed, look up to the heavens, "Soft, encouraging, knew a few new things that made even _me_ blush-"

"Madame Angel weren't half bad," Porthos said, face still beat red, but let a bashful smirk show, "Said I were a real good kisser."

"We're told not to remove the blind fold or the game would be over and of course we didn't want to upset our host," Aramis justified quickly, not meeting anyone's eyes, "Then more drinks came out, we were lead around and out the mansion house, one thing led to another and..."

The group waited for him to finish.

"Woke up in Treville's office," Porthos said bluntly.

"And she and her maids had made off with everything," Aramis sighed dramatically, "including our pride."

There was silence.

Until it was broken by a snort.

"You I'm not shocked at," D'artagnan stated matter-of-fact, nodding at Aramis, before cocking his head with a cheeky smile at the other, "...but _you,_ Porthos?"

Porthos looked like he wanted to ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Athos, deciding that Porthos had learnt his lesson, focused his ire on Aramis.

"My my," Athos smirked, taking a drink again, loving how embarrassed the known slut of a man was, "Getting your comeuppance from shady night time activities? That's a new record even by your low standards, Aramis."

"Athos..." Aramis huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose before his hand flew to his hip," It's not what you think and we weren't fornicating with each other...much-"

There was a hoot of laughter from D'artagnan as the boy completely lost it, rolled off the wooden bench and straight onto the floor.

"Alright I've heard enough," Athos said, the sound of mirth piercing his skull. He'd get the truth from Treville later one way or another, "Dismissed."

Porthos and Aramis were left alone at the table as Athos stood up and practically dragged a writhing mass of D'artagnan off to calm down.

There was a strained silence from Aramis and Porthos until the lithe Musketeer decided to cheer his best friend up.

"You really were a good kisser-"

"Shuttup."

~


End file.
